


five times tony stark was kissed by a teammate (and one time he kissed a teammate)

by colourexplosion



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Kissing Meme, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 20:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colourexplosion/pseuds/colourexplosion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which people kiss tony a lot and he doesn't get it</p>
<p>(written for foxxclub's avengers <a href="http://foxxcub.livejournal.com/764068.html">kissing meme</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	five times tony stark was kissed by a teammate (and one time he kissed a teammate)

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this was originally posted on lj [here](http://foxxcub.livejournal.com/764068.html?thread=25724068#t25724068). I figured I'd put it on the site so I have all my stuff in one place. this is un-beta'd. (though the version on LJ may be slightly different than this one, because I have edited it since.) 
> 
> also, this contains spoilers for the movie, so if you haven't seen it yet, you've been warned!

I. 

Natasha kisses with teeth. A lot of teeth. But, then again, it might only be because she’s kissing Tony. Or because she’s Russian. Tony hasn’t completely decided yet. 

He has decided, however, to ban all Jagermeister from the mansion, because as much as he loves a good Jager, Ms. Romanova clearly cannot handle it. (And, okay, maybe it’s been awhile since he’s had any, but Natasha still kissed him first, he can’t be held accountable for what may come of it. He’s just going with the flow. Like an experiment, or something.) 

Natasha makes a noise into his mouth and settles over his lap, his hands going to her hips to squeeze lightly and his brain short circuits as her mouth moves from his and down his neck, over the sweet spot on his collar bone. She grinds her hips down and yes, yes that’s what he wants. 

Okay, maybe the Jager can stay. 

II. 

“Hey, Thor,” Tony says, eyebrow quirking up at the sight of Thor walking around in just a pair of Iron Man undies. He’s flattered, really, but they’ve had this discussion with Thor nine times now, and while Thor isn’t naked, there’s way too much beautifully sculpted muscle for Tony to be able to handle this early in the morning. 

“Yes, Stark?” Thor answers, raising his eyebrow back at him. Ah, always the sense of humor. Who taught him that? Was it Jane? Tony needs to have a talk with Jane. 

“You’ve got to put some pants on, buddy. It’s too early in the morning for this sort of thing.” 

“But it is three in the afternoon.” 

Tony checks his watch. Huh, so it is. How about that. 

“Well, still, you’ve got to put on something, what if Pepper sees, or--” He’s silenced by Thor’s mouth on his. _Huh,_ he thinks again-- he’s being constantly surprised today. He doesn’t kiss back, and Thor pulls away soon enough, smiling smugly at him. Tony narrows his eyes. 

Did he do that to shut him up? “Did you do that to shut me up?” he asks, eyebrow perpetually raised, and Thor booms out a chuckle. 

“It seems I have failed,” he says, turning away, “and I thought it was a valiant effort.” He walks out the door, leaving Tony slightly speechless in the kitchen. 

“YOU STILL HAVE TO WEAR PANTS!” 

He can hear Thor’s chuckle from the other room. 

III. 

Bruce is leaving. 

He does this a lot, and Tony knows he isn’t completely comfortable in the mansion with everyone else around all the time, and Tony understands needing to get away for a little while. He just hates that he has no one to talk to about science for weeks at a time. Well, no one who cares, at least, because he’ll talk to people about science all day, every day, no matter who you are. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to the airport? Or even Happy? He’ll do it,” Tony asks, and Bruce laughs and shakes his head. 

“No, really. I’m fine. I’ll just get a cab.” 

Tony frowns at him, but Bruce leans in, wraps his arms around him and squeezes. 

“You’re a good friend, Tony,” he says, pressing his lips to the side of Tony’s head and what the fuck, why does this keep happening to him? 

“Uh, thanks,” Tony replies, because what else is he supposed to say? Seriously, he should have Jarvis check the water for some alien kissing toxin or something. 

Bruce lets him go, smiling as he picks up his suitcase and walks out of the mansion. 

IV. 

“Tony, you’re not going to like this.” Clint’s hands are on his shoulders, and they’re facing each other, and Clint has a dangerous look on his face. 

“Like what--” Clint pulls him forward, presses their mouths together and _jesus fuck_ what did Barton eat for lunch? Tony shoves him away, wiping at his mouth. 

“Brush your teeth next time, will you?” Tony spits at him, wiping at his tongue. “Ugh, I hate onions, come on.” 

Clint just grins at him, and Tony knows that the people he lives with are insane. They have to be. Why do they keep kissing him? His mind’s been noticing patterns since he was two years old, and while everyone likes a good smooch now and then, _there is something wrong with this._ Too much team bonding. Too much! 

Tony glares at Clint one last time before going upstairs to scrub his mouth. 

V. 

“Stark.” 

Coulson’s voice sends a shudder through his spine, and Tony closes his eyes. He’s still not used to him not being dead. And, maybe he’s still a little livid that Fury lied to them about Coulson actually dying. (God, he can remember the blood on the trading cards. He wonders if it was even Coulson’s blood, or some unlucky SHIELD hack.) 

“Coulson,” he responds, tilting his head, but not turning around to face him. 

Tony pretends not to notice when Coulson walks around the front of Tony’s table and sits down in front of him. He just keeps working on the motherboard for a new computer he’s developing. 

“They told me what you did for me,” he says, and Tony scoffs. 

“Barton put you up to this?” It would be Clint’s idea of a sick joke. “Natasha? Fury?” 

“I am capable of making my own decisions,” Coulson answers him, and Tony works his jaw, cracks his neck. 

“Yeah, well, congratulations, but I don’t give a fuck. Who let you down here anyway? This is my lab. Get out.” 

Unsurprisingly, Coulson doesn’t listen, and instead just leans forward, into Tony’s space. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Doing what?” Tony snaps, furious. He slams his work down on the table, effectively destroying it, but he doesn’t care right now, not with this kind of anger. “Ignoring you? Pretending you don’t exist because the sight of you makes me sick? Pretending that you’re still dead so I don’t look like a fucking fool for believing Fury, hook, line and sinker?” 

Tony scoffs, pushes away from the table and stands. “You don’t get to be annoyed at me-- _irritated_ with me-- because I’m not the one in the wrong here. For once.” 

Coulson stares back at him, blinks, and stands. “Are you done?” he says after a moment, walking around the table slowly. 

“No, I’m not fucking done, I am so far from done that when I’m done you’ll--” But he never gets to say what Coulson will do, because he’s suddenly being _kissed by Coulson_ and no, seriously, what the _fuck._

“WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP DOING THAT TO ME?” Tony shoves Coulson away, sends him reeling back into the table. “Seriously? Who put you up to this? It’s not funny anymore. It was never funny!” 

“I was just saying thank you,” Coulson says in that same stupid monotone voice, wiping his mouth. “Thought you’d appreciate it.” 

“Yeah-- well-- fuck you.” Tony knows it’s not his best comeback ever, but he doesn’t care. 

He makes sure to slam the door on his way out. 

VI. 

Tony is curled up on an old leather couch in Howard’s study when Steve finds him, lost in a novel and the lingering scent of his father’s tobacco. 

“What are you reading?” Steve asks, and Tony huffs, turns more away from the sound of Steve’s voice. He doesn’t need this right now. 

“Nothing,” he says, because he’s nothing if not petulant at his best, and this clearly is not his best. 

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Steve says calmly, a sad twist to his mouth that Tony can _hear_. 

“Well, it is. What do you want? Who sent you? Are you here to kiss me? Because really, I’ve had enough, and that’s saying something,” Tony says.

“No one sent me, I came on my own. You’ve been up here for awhile, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

Tony doesn’t respond, which Steve obviously takes as an invitation to speak more, because, well, he’s Steve. It’s the Right Thing or whatever. 

“I know that losing someone is hard, especially a friend--” 

“No,” Tony interrupts, voice stern. “Stop it. I would rather have the kissing--” Steve turns a satisfying shade of pink. “Seriously. You don’t have to coddle me, I’ve lost people before, almost everyone I’ve ever--” He catches a glimpse of Steve’s face, clearly hurt, and remembers _oh right, woke up in the 21st century and knows literally no one except the son of his dead friend._

“God, don’t look at me like that,” Tony scoffs, “Look. We have something in common. We both lost our families or whatever, our friends, people who mean something to us. That’s just what happens. Life goes on. We grow and change and adapt to life without them.” 

“You really believe that?” Steve asks him, furrowing his brow. 

“I have to, I’m a futurist,” he says, and Steve cracks a smile. It fades after a moment, and he continues. 

“But Coulson coming back--” 

“I really don’t want to talk about this, Steve,” Tony says, closing his eyes, and Steve sighs heavily, sits down on the couch next to him. 

“If you keep building up these walls, no one’s going to be able to get to you, Tony.” 

“Maybe that’s what I want,” Tony mutters, and he feels Steve shake his head. 

“You don’t have to be this lonely. You’re not alone, you’re so charming, anyone would be your friend--” Steve’s voice has a pleading note in it that Tony can’t stand. Like Tony’s unstable, volatile, and oh, maybe he is. 

“No,” he says again, voice hard, throwing his book down to the floor. God, he's such a child today. “No. They wouldn’t. Believe me, I’ve tried, and yeah, okay, poor Tony Stark with billions of dollars but no friends. I don’t know why Pepper and Rhodey are around more than half the time, much less anyone else, I don’t deserve any of what I have, and don’t you think I know that by now? This thing in my chest is only here because I used to make weapons, and when I refused to do that, I almost died. The only thing I’m good for is killing people, Steve. Who wants to be friends with that?” 

Steve blinks at him, puts a hand on Tony’s knee. It takes a lot for Tony not to shove him away. The touch makes him crawl, makes his skin feel like it's buzzing. 

“They stay because you’re worth it, Tony, I mean it. You’re smart, and you’re kind and you’re loyal. You’re kind of an idiot, sometimes, but that’s par for the course around here. I was wrong about you, when that spear was making us all say those hateful things. I was wrong. You’re a good man. I don’t understand why you can’t realize that.” 

Tony clenches his jaw and looks away, focuses on the bookshelf on the other side of the room until he can calm down. He’s about to say something when he realizes Steve’s hand is still on his leg, and, okay, he really doesn’t want to talk about his sad life anymore, the best strategy for getting Steve out of the study is one that’s been used on Tony all week. 

He puts his hand over Steve’s, waits for him to look up and then leans in, his free hand going to Steve’s jaw to keep him in place as he presses their mouths together. 

It’s better than Tony expects-- and much different than any of the other kisses he’s gotten recently. Steve doesn’t seem to be as tentative as Tony thought he would be-- oh. That’s Steve’s hand on Tony’s hip, pulling him closer, and Tony is still kissing him, and Steve is kissing back, and this is a very different direction than he thought this would go. 

He pulls away for breath, pleased to find Steve blushing. “Come on, Cap,” Tony says, demeanor completely changed from a few moments ago-- if he’s doing this ‘seduce Captain America thing’ he’s doing it right, damn it. “I know that’s not your first kiss.” 

“Stop it,” Steve says, and Tony pulls back further, but Steve catches him before he goes too far. “No, I mean, the fake stuff. I hate that.” 

“I didn’t know you were capable of hating anything,” Tony replies, untangling himself, but Steve catches his wrist. 

“Stop. I mean it. We don’t have to talk about it anymore, we can keep kissing, that’s fine, but you have to believe that I don’t hate you.” Steve looks so earnest that Tony might vomit. Or maybe that's the nerves, or the weird feeling in his stomach.

“You want to keep kissing me?” Maybe not the best thing to focus on, but whatever, Steve’s hand around his wrist is having surprising effects on him. The inability to critically listen, for one. 

“Are you crazy? Of course I do.” Steve rolls his eyes, and is about to say something else, but can’t because Tony launches himself into Steve’s lap, kissing him again.


End file.
